Underfell
by ModdieMod
Summary: Things don't always go as planned.
1. Intervention

If you haven't heard of Underfell, please check it out. I find it interesting! It's an AU where everything is in reverse.

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"You're _really_ determined, aren't you?" Sans hissed mockingly, his shoulders bouncing with a low chuckle as he loomed above Frisk, his crimson eye glowing maliciously. A smug grin was spread across his features, and he let out a snort as Frisk heaved themselves to their feet, biting down on their lip to swallow a whimper.

Their face was damp with tears, bruises littering their skin- but the fierce persistence in their dark eyes never faded. Clenching their jaw against the tightness in their chest, they shuddered against the cold and curled their fingers into fists. The frigid wind blew on, and the seemingly never ending expanse of gelid white was only broken by Sans' stark, blood red aura and the jagged shadows of the skeletal trees behind them.

The silence was only broken by Frisk's shallow, ragged breathing. They could feel their own pulse in their head, behind their eyes, tainting their vision and making it fuzzy- but they had to keep standing. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much their knees shook with the desire to curl up and admit defeat. Frisk was going to do this if it killed them. Kindness, compassion- it had to be down here. Buried, somewhere- they just had to find it.

Flowey had taught them that, and so had Papyrus in the end, before Sans had gotten rid of him for being too soft. It had to be here, somewhere.. Why were they so blind?

"Tell me, human," Sans drawled, inspecting his fingers and giving them a nonchalant wiggle before looking back up at them. "What keeps you going? Hm? I mean.. _look at you_."

With a flick of the wrist, he suddenly lifted Frisk into the air, causing them to cry out in panic, tears burning at their eyes once more as they dangled helplessly, turned this way and that as Sans inspected them critically.

"You're small, _obviously_ weak, you got no powers," he listed, almost bored as he lifted them higher and higher, tilting his head. "And for crying out loud, you can't even talk right. What makes you think that a mere human child could be a match for someone like Toriel? Someone like Papyrus? Someone like _me_?"

Frisk was quiet, their lips quivering, stomach clenching with terrified nausea as they continued to climb the sky. Their hair was cruelly whipped out of their face by the snowy gusts of wind, and their teeth chattered. They couldn't answer him. Why were they on this clearly impossible quest? To prove a point? To have a chance at glory?

 _To be a hero?_

"Honestly, it's past the point of annoying, or even laughable," Sans concluded, giving them a spine chilling grin, eyes widening in mock innocence as he made their chilly ascent come to a stop. "It's pitiful, that's what it is. You know what I think? I think you can't answer me because you secretly think this is just as pointless as I do. But see, it's all a matter of pride in the end- no way you'd say that out loud, right? No way you'd just up and throw the towel in on your own, hm? What you need is someone to _put you out of your misery."_

With a muffled grunt, Frisk shook their head frantically, trying to wriggle out of Sans' magical grip- but the fight left them feeble, and they frustratedly went limp not long after. This earned them another laugh, and Sans let out a slow sigh, his breath fading into the unforgiving air. He gave them one last look, ignoring the pleading expression on their face and the soft whine that warbled out of their chapped lips.

"Consider this a _favor_ ," he snarled at last, lifting his arm and rearing it back. Frisk couldn't even scream. Sheer horror kept them speechless, adrenaline streaking through their veins as they waited for the soul twisting impact that would-

 _"STOP!"_

A black and red blur shot out from the shadows and tackled the shorter skeleton, making him lose concentration. Letting out a strangled cry, Frisk fell- _but not for long._

Papyrus untangled himself from Sans' baffled form and dove to catch them, giving a dazed grunt as he landed with another painful thud. He held Frisk close, bony fingers digging tightly into the fabric of their thin sweater as he let the heat of his magical core seep into their clammy skin. Stunned, they buried their face in his chest, trembling.

 _I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm alive, I'm alive...Papyrus is alive..!_

" _Papyrus_!" Sans shrieked, clutching at his skull, practically melting the snow at his feet with his seething rage. "What's the meaning of this? I thought I took care of you!"

"You thought wrong," the taller skeleton spat back at him stepping forward and fixing his sibling with a menacing glare that would make Hades think twice. _"Enough is enough."_


	2. Sign

Despite the cracks littering his skull, Papyrus stood tall, shoulders hunched around the human protectively as he glowered down at his older brother. Sans stared up at him incredulously, his eyes holding a baffled amusement as he watched Frisk slowly succumb to another wave of tears in the taller skeleton's arms, almost pushed to laughter by the tiny whimpers that escaped them.

Gradually, the anger and frustration faded, taking his flaring aura with it. Sans relaxed, eyes drooping in seeming nonchalance as he shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a bored sounding sigh, his golden tooth glinting.

"And so the great Papyrus has come to save the day. How _endearing_ ," he cooed mockingly, shaking his head slowly, his eyes tracing over Papyrus' own quivering form with a scoff. "So you managed to live after all, hm? Well, _congratulations_. It seems your pathetic displays of compassion made me underestimate you."

Papyrus growled, shifting Frisk in his arms so he was able to point an accusing, skeletal finger at Sans, eye sockets narrowing and shining faintly with gold fire.

"Don't play dumb," he snarled, taking a step forwards. "You _let_ me live. Face it, Sans, you couldn't do away with me even if you tried. You're just angry that you couldn't do it, that in spite of all your misgivings, a sliver of compassion lies in your core as well, and I'm living _proof_ of it!"

At his words, Sans shook his head frantically and his hands clenched into fists as he bared his teeth furiously.

"You're wrong," the skeleton hissed, his voice rising. "You're dead _wrong_!"

"I'm absolutely right. What was that you said earlier, Sans? It being a matter of _pride_?" Papyrus sneered, triumphant at the enraged look he was getting. "There's no way that Sans the skeleton, ruler of the underworld, would ever say that out loud, though, right? That not only makes you as soft as I am- it makes you _weak_! Open your eye sockets. Your reign is crumbling around you, and you refuse to come to terms with it because there's nothing you can do."

He gestured to the petrified human in his arms and gently put them down a few feet away, draping his scarlet scarf onto their prone form and throwing his gloves at them. Frisk wasted no time in hiding their face in the thick red fabric, hands practically swimming in the oversized gloves- but it was better than freezing. They hunkered down and lay close to the ground, too afraid to do much else.

"This, this is a _sign_ ," he continued. "It's a sign of _hope_ , a sign of _change_ , and I've come to believe-"

Harsh laughter cut him off, and he growled quietly as Sans practically doubled over, his hands on his kneecaps. The shorter skeleton pretended to wipe a tear from his eye when he was through, letting out a derisive snort.

" _Change_?" he barked skeptically. "You think this is a sign of _change_? That _one_ defective human signifies the change of an _entire_ _world_? An entire _history_? _Fool_! Nothing has changed- they were murderers then, and they're murderers now! That's the law of the land. or have you forgotten? Kill or be killed. They're the ones that made us like this. Did you forget that as well?"

" _You can't peg the errors of previous generations on a single child!_ You can't judge them so heavily!" Papyrus cried desperately, eye socket flaring with a vexed golden flame. Sans took a step, his feet swirling with triumphant red streaks of magic.

"That didn't stop _you_ from pegging your _entire lifestyle_ on them, Papyrus! And based on what? A pitiful whim. You're grasping at straws, little bro, because you've come to realize that you no longer fit the law of the land," Sans spat victoriously, advancing as Papyrus' aura shrunk, the taller skeleton's face falling in trepidation. "The strong flourish amongst the corpses of the weak, and they are the worthy ones, the ones that'll be part of the army that will one day rise and take back what's rightfully ours. And you? You're swimming amongst the corpses, terrified to face the fact that you won't live to be a part of it. Why? Because.."

A weak chuckle escaped him, and he slowly shook his head, pinching the bony bridge of his nose as his shoulders bounced. Sans went silent for seconds that seemed to stretch into years before opening his eye sockets once more, face lit with the color of blood as he lifted his arms and summoned his power, hurling Papyrus into the air smugly. Crimson tainted the snow as his eye widened in twisted glee.

 _"Because compassion has no place in this world! And you already possess too much of it!"_ he shrieked, slamming his sibling into one of the tree trunks, causing it to splinter and send smoking wood flying. Hearing the satisfying crunch of bone made him giggle faintly, his fingers quivering as the taller skeleton slid to the ground and landed hard. "Now I'm going to finish what I started, and y-"

Papyrus tried to lift himself up, arms quivering with the effort, almost landing face first as his upper forearm splintered and gave way, before he cut Sans off with a wail, looking at something over his shoulder.

" _NO!"_ Papyrus screamed, trying to scramble to his feet frantically, golden fire licking at his fingertips and setting his face aglow as he reached with a mangled arm. His expression held dazed terror, pain glazed eyes rapidly filling with fear. _"Frisk, DON'T!_ "

Sans turned, and grinned. Frisk stood inches away, their newly acquired scarf brushing against the ground faintly as the wind blew. In their shaking hand, they had a blade, its tip shining with poisonous purple light. Their lip trembled, dark eyes narrowed into angry slits, frosted trails on their face from tears that the snow had taken.

Frisk's breaths were wheezy and their irises swirled with fevered conflict as they took an unsteady step forward, blade pointed threateningly. Sans stared, making his aura fade and slowly diminish, gaze cooling as he eyed the weapon and let his hands fall.

"No, no," he said, his tone simpering. "Let them do what they _want_."

He took off his coat and thumped his chest with a fist, raising an eye ridge at them encouragingly. Death was nothing he feared, especially not death by _human_ hands. It would be _glorious_ , not tragic.

Frisk paused, eyes darting from Sans to Papyrus and back again. Here they were, with Sans exposing his magical core, willingly making himself vulnerable. When would they get another chance like _this_?

Then again... Papyrus' obvious heartbreak made them hesitate. Sans, despite all his treachery, would always be his _brother_. But was it better to do things for the greater good, and momentarily forego one person's wishes? If they killed Sans, this would all be over. There would be peace- but a new conflict would arise.

 _Papyrus would never forgive them._

Sans' death would mark his words with truth- Frisk would be living proof that nothing had changed after all.

A small thud could be heard as the blade was dropped into the snow, and Frisk advanced swiftly, raising their arms and-...

Papyrus stared, dumbfounded as he watched his human friend wrap their arms around Sans in a shaky hug. He didn't know whether to cry out or burst into nervous laughter. Swirling emotions kept him rooted to the ground, and he gave a shuddering inhale full of incredulity as Sans stiffened, going stock still.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Sans demanded, shoulders raising in obvious discomfort as he scowled down at them. "That's it? _This_ is what you do with the opportunity you've been given? _Idiot_ \- I've hurt, I've killed, thousands of times, all merciless. I've made you suffer and I've genuinely _enjoyed_ it, do you not understand?"

Frisk's fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt and they only pressed themselves closer, peeking up at him pleadingly, their brows furrowed in frustrated silence.

 _Please..._

" _Stop it!"_ the skeleton yelled, curling his fingers into fists. "You've changed _nothing_! You can accomplish _nothing_! You-..."

His voice cracked, and his eyes widened as he realized that no matter how hard he tried, how much will he mustered, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from the small human's embrace.


	3. Revelation

This was a good opportunity to get up, wasn't it?

With a pained grunt, Papyrus heaved himself to his feet and brushed himself off as best he could, giving a wince at the state of his injured arm. it was cracked and chipped in several places, barely clinging to the joint. It was fairly painful, to say the _least_. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards a bit, eyeing the scene warily, his core humming apprehensively.

Sans had gone _silent_. His eye had stopped burning with red fire, and the surroundings chilled once the flames and furious aura receded, leaving them in frigid apprehension. In all honesty, Papyrus still didn't trust it. He wanted to pull Frisk back, but one look and he knew that wasn't happening. The small child had buried their face in Sans' chest, shoulders hunched as they leaned almost all of their weight on him. They were too tired to cry anymore, too weary to fight back.

The skeleton they were clinging to was absolutely speechless, staring into the horizon with a helpless expression on his face. Traces of fear still clung to the pinpricks of light in his eye sockets that served for pupils, and his bony fingers shook. Time and time again his jaw clicked open, only to close as words failed him. He looked lost, broken, _empty_.

"... _Sans_?" Papyrus whispered, his voice wavering as it broke the silence, making everyone jump. Slowly, his brother turned to look at him, dazed, as if he were laying eyes on someone he didn't know. He tore himself from Frisk's grasp, and left them swaying uncertainly as he took a few steps back, his sneakers slipping precariously on the ice.

"No," he rasped, shaking his head rapidly, and holding up a hand that made Papyrus and Frisk flinch, as if trying to ward them off. " _No_. No, I.. You _can't_.. This isn't.."

"Sans," Papyrus tried again, making his tone gentle so the other wouldn't act irrationally. "It's... it's going to be alright, we can all-"

"No!" Sans cried out, sharply looking away. _"It's not supposed to be this way!"_

Distraught and confused, the shorter skeleton rushed off, diving into a small ripple in time and space, vanishing in a puff of red. He'd teleported away.

Papyrus sagged, and slowly sat down on the frigid ground, still a bit dazed after everything. His bones felt like they were vibrating and splintering, but everything was just eerily still. Even the wind had quieted a bit. He let out a long, heavy exhale and slouched. Sans was gone. They didn't know where he was anymore, and his entire body ached, and his arm was shattered, and he couldn't teleport because he wasn't _that_ powerful.

 _Amazing_.

The sound of feet dragging through snow caught his attention, and he looked up swiftly, in time to see Frisk plod towards him slowly. They fiddled with the gloves he'd given them and glanced up at him questioningly, biting their lip. Despite the fact that Papyrus had saved them and provided some warmth, and even gone as far as to rebel against his tyrannical sibling.. They were still wary. Afraid.

Frankly, Papyrus didn't blame them. Images of flashing blue bones and soft cries for mercy echoed in his skull, making him shudder. He shook his head and stood, squinting down at them skeptically. Bonding and re-gaining trust could wait. His brother was at large, and though he himself had managed to convince one or two fellow monsters, along with a handful of the minor ones.. They were still in trouble. Big Trouble.

"Any ideas?" he asked gruffly, his voice giving way a bit. Frisk lowered their eyes and seemed to think for a bit before they pointed back in the direction of Snowdin, gaze questioning. What on earth was that supposed to mean? They had limited time because lord knew where Sans had poofed off to, and he couldn't waste it on something like _charades_ -...

The taller skeleton took a deep breath to calm himself and blurted out words, trying to give meaning to Frisk's gestures.

"Snowdin? Others? _Home_?" he tried, getting a rapid nod at his last guess. "You're asking if there's a possibility that Sans went home? I highly doubt that. It's not the most inconspicuous place. Secondly, it's not safe. For _us_ , anyway. Too many people who support him."

Slightly defeated, the little one gave a helpless shrug and looked off into the horizon in bleary silence, save for the occasional sniffle. Their brain was too fried to think right. Papyrus huffed and gazed into the darkness between the skeletal trees, eye socket ringed with an orange glow of frustration for a few brief seconds. Where could Sans have gone? Snowdin was out of the question, and Alphys.. he'd called her unreliable. No _way_ he'd go to her for reinforcement. Toriel was too near, so that meant..

" _Asgore_!" he cried out, making the human beside him jump and gasp, startled. "He's headed for Asgore, of course- Frisk? Frisk... _Frisk, breathe!_ "

His human companion had paled, their chest growing tight at the feared name, limbs beginning to shake from terror, and not cold. _Asgore_. They'd heard that name down in the Ruins, with Toriel. She'd _warned_ them, _threatened_ them with his presence if they didn't behave. She'd told them of the horrible things he was capable of doing.

A black veil started to crawl into their vision, wheezing gasps escaping their chapped lips as they tried to regain control of themselves, but it just wasn't working. Panic seeped through them, flowed through their very bloodstream. They could hear screaming in their skull, they could feel their heartbeat in their eyes. Faintly, they could hear Papyrus talking urgently, feel his bony fingers digging into their shoulders desperately as the icy hand squeezing their airways tightened.

 _He'll kill us, he'll kill us, we're all dead, dead, dead..._

Frisk's eyes began to flutter, and they felt as if they were floating headfirst into the sky when the blackness came.

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 **Filler chapter to make you guys suffer a little bit. ;)**


	4. Ruins

**Small author's note: I really appreciate all your support, guys! Those of you who comment and favorite: thank you so much! This started out as a one shot, and you've motivated me and given me so much inspiration! There'll be plenty more in the future!**

 **To the person who commented that they would kill me if the story wasn't updated: killing me would only stop the story permanently, so there's that. Also, if you're going to continue leaving comments that are pressuring and negative, just don't comment at all.**

 **Anyway, here's the next installment, with another fabulous cliffhanger! ;)**

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Was the human _dead_?

Papyrus felt his heart sink, and he froze for a few seconds, not daring to move with the motionless bundle in his arms. He felt a large void growing inside of him, and his mind began to race. Was it something he'd said? He'd just mentioned Asgore, and... Did they literally die of fright?

...He wouldn't blame them if they did.

An apprehensive shiver went up his spine, and he made a small, whimpering noise at the back of his nonexistent vocal cords. He didn't know that could happen- now what? His hope, the epitome of his inspiration, aspirations, dreams... Dead. Lifeless, in his arms, and he hadn't even gotten a chance to fully thank them for sparing his brother, or redeem himself. Not just for the previous cruelty towards Frisk, but...

Towards every other human that had come down here before them. He'd killed yet another. Whilst striving to prevent death, he'd only caused it. Surely if this was the right course of action, people wouldn't have to die? Grief seized him, and he leaned back, staring helplessly into the dark. Maybe Sans was right after all. Maybe the tiny heartbeat against his rib cage was a sign that-...

 _Wait._

 _He didn't have a tiny heartbeat._

 _Frisk did._

Papyrus let out a gasp and looked down at them frantically. They were still motionless, but when he pressed his fingers against their jugular, he felt it. A pulse, a sign of life. A sign that not all was lost.

Heaving a raspy sigh of relief, the taller skeleton stood and, with much difficulty because of his injured arm, lifted the small human up so that they were carefully draped over his shoulder. He stood for a few seconds, clueless, his gaze unfocused. Where would they go? Frisk obviously needed to rest and recuperate, and he would be lying if he said his entire body didn't hurt.

Almost reluctantly, he turned to face the Ruins, giving a shudder. Frisk wouldn't like it, but they had no choice, and neither did Papyrus. He started walking.

The journey was an _arduous_ one, despite the Ruins being close. with every sharp wind and spontaneous gust, Papyrus felt his magical core hum anxiously in fear that the human would tumble out of his precarious grasp, or freeze to death. His steps were quick and brisk at first, but they slowed to a half delirious stumble as his vision blurred with cold and exhaustion. Paranoid whispers of his brother finding them filled his skull, and made him shiver with every snapping branch or ghostly shadow. They were so vulnerable, so exposed, _helpless_...

What if they got attacked? What then? Papyrus wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight, but.. _Anything_ to keep Frisk safe. He'd make them run and try his best to fend off the attacker, and.. Who knew? It was a silly notion, but the hope that Frisk would still be able to touch the hearts of others burned in the back of his skull.

When he finally reached the door, he almost _bawled_. There it was in its ominous glory, metallic, chipped, and scuffed- and certainly one of the most beautiful and uplifting things he'd seen in a while. He shook his head to try and clear the bleariness from his eyes, and slowly walked up to it, only to realize a rather significant setback.

How would he knock without letting go of Frisk? There was no way he was risking putting them on the cold ground, and if they had to flee, picking them up would be too cumbersome. Papyrus felt frustration heat his frame, and a low growl rose from within him as he scowled and gave the door a fierce kick out of pure annoyance. The echo it gave afterwards made him jump a bit, and he experimentally kicked it again. Maybe someone inside would hear him.

 _Thud... Thud.. Bang..Thud.._

" _Toriel_? Toriel, I know you're in there! Open this door!" he cried out, looking around to make sure no one unwanted was hearing his words. Several kicks later, he was gasping for breath, and his foot ached despite his steel toed boots. He paused to lean against the door for support, and was met with thin air as it opened. A furry paw caught him by the shoulder before he even had a chance to yelp, and he stiffened as bright yellow eyes met his fearful eye sockets.

"Papyrus," Toriel whispered, a thin, crooked smile pulling at her maw. "Such a rare sight to behold. You look worse for wear- what's _this_? Is that... is _that_..."

She stiffened and clasped her hands together tightly, her arms quivering with strain as she slowly tilted her head, some of her long fur falling into her face. Her eyes never left Frisk's prone form, and when her lips parted next, they shook.

"The _child_ , oh _yes_ ," she hissed, closing the door rapidly and standing in front of it, as if to stop Papyrus if he tried to escape. " _My_ child... You've come to return them, I see."

"Nonsense," Papyrus growled, cutting her off and holding Frisk closer protectively, his shoulders stiffening. "I've come because I'm in need of assistance, and-"

He paused as Toriel slowly rubbed her hands together and circled him, her gaze never leaving the small bundle in Papyrus' arms. It was hungry, frantic- _dangerous_. Papyrus felt his eye socket give a warning throb, and he took a step back.

"So, the great Papyrus needs _my_ assistance?" Toriel cooed, noticing his anxiety and thriving off of it as she watched his head whip back and forth to try and keep her into view. "And what will _I_ get out of it, pray tell? Or did you _really_ think you could come and expect I give you kindness for free?"

It wasn't unusual behavior for Toriel, but even so, Papyrus gaped at her, an incredulous scowl on his face.

"'Get out of it'? Surely the fact that the child will _survive_ is enough for you?" he pointed out, his voice raising in frustration. "Toriel, Frisk is badly hurt. Sans-"

"Don't tell me that _filthy_ little mongrel dared lay a skeletal finger on _my_ beloved child?" the goat woman asked, her voice shaking and cracking, raising in pitch. Papyrus hesitated briefly, watching her fists begin to steam, her pupils begin to shrink. "He _dared_ hurt them? _My_ child? He dared touch what's _mine_? The wretch! I'll-"

 _"Toriel!"_ Papyrus snapped, his yell echoing off the dilapidated walls as he cut her off, making her jump in surprise. He briefly closed his eyes, reigning in his vexation with a shaking breath before he could look at her again. Her palms were cooled, and she was still. " _Please._ It's true, Sans attacked both of us. But we need your help. I need to make sure Frisk is safe and recovered while I attend to my own injuries, and everywhere else is too dangerous. I've managed to speak to a few others, but everything is uncertain and still under wraps. If.. If we could just use this place as a momentary refuge.. The point is, we could use you."

"So you're _still_ on about that silly little 'Change' endeavor you told me about? I didn't think you'd get this far. You know I didn't ask for the war, skeleton," Toriel said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest warningly. "There is a reason no one from the outside dares enter the ruins. I refuse to be a part of that silly conflict; I'd rather stay below it all and turn a deaf ear and a blind eye. While I detest your sibling, I detest the outer world even more. You know I don't do well with teamwork."

"He's going for _Asgore_ ," he blurted, desperate, his knees starting to shake. "I've heard not a word from Alphys or Mettaton, Flowey's gone missing, and half the monsters in Snowdin still side with Sans. _Tell_ _me_ , Toriel, where else should I go? We've gotten far, but not far enough! We have many in number, _but not enough!_ You know very well me and a handful of townsfolk, no matter how magical, could ever amount to be as powerful as Sans and Asgore combined! Even if you don't side with us, I still need your aid! _I only know about killing humans, not saving them!"_

When he was through, his chest was rattling, and his eye socket burned a fiery golden, flames licking the side of his face. The walls reverberated with his outrage, and other than that, silence filled the musty air. Toriel stared at him fixedly, her eyes narrowed into slits. Slowly, they trailed back over to Frisk's form, and she nodded sharply, pointing.

"I keep them."

"Wh-..what?"

"Papyrus, don't be a fool. There's _no_ way you could ever look after a child, look at them for crying out loud," she snapped, outstretching her arms expectantly. "My aid for the child, fair trade. Children don't belong on the battle field anyhow. You rest here and when both of you are in fine shape, Frisk stays with me, and you go."

Papyrus took a step back and felt a snarl building in his chest, indignant.

"How is _that_ a fair trade?" he squawked. "You're not even offering to come with us! And Frisk _fled_ from you! They wouldn't want to stay here!"

"It's a perfectly reasonable trade!" Toriel shrieked, taking a few steps forward. " _I_ opened the door, _I_ am offering food and shelter, and _my_ knowledge of humans, which you _lack_! Leaving Frisk here will guarantee their safety- with _you_ , on the other hand, they'll constantly be in danger! You spoke of trying to help the child, but you've done just the _opposite_ , you _bumbling idiot_! Give them to me!"

"They're not even conscious to give their opinion!" the skeleton cried out, thrusting his glowing face into hers. Flames burst from Toriel's palms, and her lip curled to reveal sharp, yellow teeth as a guttural growl was ripped from her throat.

" _Their opinion does not matter! Give the child to ME!"_

Silence prevailed, save for the crackling of fire. Papyrus thought his skull would crack from the strain. There was no way he could leave Frisk with Toriel. She was manipulative, irresponsible, possessive, obsessive.. Then again, he did need her. The cause needed her. But..

She wasn't telling him the whole truth. She spoke about Frisk's safety, but didn't Flowey meet Frisk after finding them wandering around in the dark, in tears? Didn't she try to separate them after finding out about their friendship? Didn't she try to teach them how to fight? Self defense was necessary, but that wasn't what Toriel was after. Not by a long shot. She'd do to Frisk what she'd done to all the other humans long ago.

He wouldn't let that happen. Not again. Not to _Frisk_. Papyrus looked up into Toriel's expectant, murderous gaze, and took a few steps back.

"... _No_ ," he said simply, voice deep with determination. "I won't give them to you."

Toriel seemed to relax for a few moments, and nodded slowly, a tight smile on her face.

"Very well," she said softly. "I'll just have to _take_ them."

In a flash, columns of flame sprung from her hands, lashing out at him. Papyrus hissed, but tucked and rolled just in time, feeling the heat lick at his vertebrae. The skeleton held the child close to his chest and stomped his foot. Bones sprung from the ground, sending dust and debris flying as they pelted Toriel mercilessly. She cried out, but ultimately batted them away and threw a ball of fire at him, cursing as he ran deeper into the dark of the Ruins.

 _"You can't escape, skeleton!"_

Papyrus ran, breath heaving in his chest as he turned this way and that, dodging odd frog-like monsters and piles of dead leaves. Toriel's banshee-like screams echoed behind him, and sent chills down his spine as he raced down the crumbling halls. Water leaked from the moldy ceiling, and Finally, he reached a large pillar, and ducked behind its shadow, slowly letting himself sink to the ground.

His arm was aching with renewed fervor, and his bones felt tender after Toriel's fiery assault. _Great_. He was most likely lost. His best shot was waiting things out until Toriel tired and went back to her home. Whenever that would be. Until then, he was stuck.

Papyrus waited tensely as the goat woman's cries faded into the distance, and let out a breath he'd been holding- only to gasp as the small bundle in his arms moved.

"F-Frisk?" he whispered, watching their eyes slowly flutter open and struggle to focus. "You're awake..?"

Sluggishly, the human raised a hand to wipe at their bruise mottled face, giving a small nod. Their head _hurt_ , and their chest felt tight. Their entire body was sore, and their stomach felt terribly queasy.. The only good thing about this was that they weren't cold anymore, but-... why was it so dark? Frisk looked up at Papyrus questioningly, and he stared a bit, unsure of what to say.

 _Hello, Frisk. While you were unconscious i decided to make the terrible decision of coming to Toriel for help, except now she wants to kill me and keep you forever._

Astounding.

"... I'll explain later," he offered weakly, moving to stand and peering around the pillar warily. Nothing. No one. "We need to get out of here. I'll need you to keep quie-... well, never mind."

Shaking his head, he began to walk, his steps slow and confused. Frisk gave a small hum of acknowledgement, and closed their eyes. The insides of their eyelids felt swollen and heavy, and pulsed with every beat of their heart. Honestly, they didn't care where they were- they were just happy to be alive.

They were glad Papyrus didn't question them about their panic attack earlier, and glad that he was still alright. After all-

Suddenly, their world was being turned upside down at their skeleton guardian cried out. Their blood went cold as familiar high pitched laughter struck their ears, heart rate accelerating as they tried to hide and bury their face in Papyrus' heaving chest.

 _No, no..._

" _Silly_ bag of bones," Toriel simpered, her grip on Papyrus' neck tight as she held him against the wall. He hadn't noticed the shadow lurking behind the crumbling archway until it was too late. "This is _my_ kingdom. I know it like the back of my hand- did you _honestly_ think you'd be able to get away from me? To beat me in my own home? How _sad_."


	5. Blossoming

Knowing where he was teleporting to would have been a good idea, but he'd panicked, and now he was _here_.

In a brief flash of red, Sans the skeleton disentangled himself from the wrinkles in time and space, landing on the floor of the cave with a startled grunt. Almost instantaneously, he was on his feet, his hands clenched and glowing, his eye socket flaring with a warning crimson light.

But he was alone. _For the moment anyway_. After a few seconds of tense silence, he shuddered and let himself relax, blinking to regain his bearings, his shoulders slumping.

The cave was pitch black, and the floor was damp with sludgy, thick, dark water. Polluted by magic, it seemed to have the consistency of saran wrap from afar, and didn't give way unless you applied a significant amount of pressure. A shriveled echo flower slouched in a corner, seemingly staring sadly at the ground. Sans recognized this cave and gave a growl of frustration, closing his eyes firmly.

It was the cave right outside Snowdin. Why'd he come _here_ , of all places? Why couldn't he have gone somewhere more _purposeful_ , like... like...

Well, _anyway_.

The short skeleton angrily kicked a rock out of his way and slammed his fist against the wall, making it crack softly in protest. It also made his hand ache, but he wasn't going to acknowledge that.

"What was _that_ all about, huh?!" he yelled at himself, clutching at his skull and shaking it in vexation. "I could've killed 'em, they were both right there, so _WHY_ didn't I-..."

Sans trailed off, not really wanting to hear the end of that sentence for some reason. Why _hadn't_ he been able to kill Papyrus? Why _hadn't_ he been able to push the kid away? They were just _hinderances_ , obstacles, honestly.

"Stupid," he spat, feeling his anger rise up again. " _Stupid, stupid_!"

A bone crashed up from the dirt, sending mud flying in a splash of scarlet before shattering against a nearby boulder. Pieces of bone plopped onto the ground, and then.. they started to shake. Sans eyed the shards warily before taking a cautious step back, feeling the ground vibrate beneath his sneakers. Red flame glowed softly in his eye socket, and he felt his hands clench... but then he smirked as he saw a familiar bunch of petals break through the mud and sludge.

"Look what the amalgamate dragged in," Sans sneered, his eyes narrowing as the small flower shook himself off and fixed him with a weak frown. "You've come to the wrong place at the wrong time, you-"

"You won't kill me," Flowey interrupted, his eyes gleaming in triumph despite the way his lips curled into a grimace. "You _can't_."

Sans froze, before his expression went furious.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" he demanded, taking a step forward. Flowey strained his stem a bit, shaking with the effort but ultimately growing a little taller.

"It means what it means, Sans," the plant retorted, before shrinking in on himself a little bit. "I.. s-saw what happened. The whole thing."

" _Amazing_ ," Sans snarled, looming over him now. "You go missing and leave the human to fend for themselves, then come back and the first thing you do is watch their possible _death_? _Coward. I should burn you alive right here and now_."

".. _Do_ it."

Sans blinked, _baffled_. Flowey had grown even taller, almost up to his chin at this point, stem coiling like a snake about to strike. His frayed petals bristled, and despite his shaky, grimy appearance, he almost looked... _confident_. The flower tilted his head and his entire face seemed to twitch for a few seconds before he raised an eyebrow.

"W-well? I'm waiting."

Giving a choked growl, Sans glowered as fiercely as he could, and he reached forward to snatch him right out of the ground. Giving a pained and surprised screech, Flowey was unrooted. He grew limp in the skeleton's hand, fear making his previous confidence shrink significantly. Mud dripped off the tips of his roots sluggishly, and they wriggled feebly in search of a proper hold.

"Be careful what you wish for," Sans hissed, leaning in so close their foreheads almost touched, his fingers tightening on Flowey's brittle stem. "Because it just might-"

"What will you gain if you kill me? I've already befriended Papyrus! _I'm_ the one that gave him ideas, _I'm_ the one who helped Frisk survive in the Ruins!" Flowey cried, shivering. Sans stared for a few seconds before straightening up, features twisting.

" _And_?"

" _Think_ about it! What's done is _done_ ," Flowey grumbled, his roots taking hold of Sans' wrist and wrapping tightly. "Even if you do kill me, your time is up. You'll only be stalling the inevitable."

Completely taken by surprise, Sans' grip faltered, and he squinted.

"..Inevitable," he echoed, letting out a snort. " _Really_? Even when I have _Asgore_ on my side?"

Flowey cringed at the mention of Asgore, but he stayed strong, leaning in so his petals practically brushed Sans' nose bone.

"Sans," he said firmly. "It's time to _give up_."

The skeleton actually laughed this time, his grip tightening just a bit, tips of his fingers digging into Flowey's leaves.

"What, are you gonna _make_ me?" he challenged, feeling the familiar anger rise inside of him once more. Flowey wilted a bit, and his smug attitude seemed to fade.

"Well, I... _no_ ," he confessed. "I was kind of hoping to persuade you."

Somewhat disgusted and frustrated, Sans flung him into the mud, shaking him off his wrist angrily and staring at him as he wriggled around and finally rooted himself again. The skeleton scoffed.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you think you have a _chance_?" he asked gruffly. Flowey turned to look up at him, arching an eyebrow.

"...Well, for starters... _you haven't killed me yet_."


	6. Defeat

Sans seemed to be holding his breath, his expression one of bewilderment. He hesitated for a bit before vehemently shaking his head. Flowey was right, and he _hated_ it. He couldn't think of a plausible argument, and he hated that even more.

" _Shut up_ ," he snapped, turning away. Flowey beamed and leaned in closer, tilting his head a bit. He'd struck a nerve, he could tell.

"Sans, I might be a bit of a weakling, but I'm not _stupid_. With the power and knowledge _you_ have? Papyrus, Frisk, and I could have been dead _ages_ ago. You could have incinerated them the moment you found out they'd set foot in the Underworld. Heck, you could've killed me when you found out I was trying to help and guide the humans instead of hurting them. But you've _kept us alive_ ," the flower stated, his voice going soft at the end. "Even after you've had _so many_ blatant opportunities... Don't you think that means something? Doesn't that mean Papyrus is _right_? Maybe-"

"Be quiet!" Sans roared, stomping his foot and causing the ground underneath him to sizzle. "You don't know _anything_!"

"I know a lot more than you think," Flowey pointed out. "You say you have Asgore on your side, like he's some sort of a trump card- but at what cost, Sans? It's almost like you depend on him. From what I knew, he liked to work alone, just like Toriel. At least, that's what he told you. What was he trying to do again... rise to the surface and take power, right? That was _his_ goal, not yours."

"People can have things in common," Sans bit back warily, scoffing. "What's your _point_?"

"Even so.. taking over the entirety of the human world would be foolish. They're pretty advanced in technology, even if they lack magic, and there are a lot of them, aren't there? And every human that came down here was too scared to do anything rather than flee, so what did you do? In order to prove yourself to Asgore?" Flowey asked, his voice beginning to waver as indignant tears welled up in his eyes. "You waited for them to come to you, like it was some sort of _game_! And then you _killed them_. Who _cares_ about the reasons you used- _you killed them_! Those poor souls.. But you didn't know what would happen next, did you, Sans? You didn't know about the experiments, not until it was too _late_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sans blurted, taking a step back and curling his fingers into fists to hide the way they shook. He was sweating. "I killed them because they _deserved_ it and because I _wanted_ to. It was convenient- no one tells me what to do!"

"No one but _Asgore_ , anyway," Flowey corrected him bitterly. " _Really_ , Sans, were you that _desperate_? Injecting determination into human corpses that had already withered away- did you honestly think that would _work_? That their minds would be sound enough for you to manipulate them into fighting for monster kind?"

"It _could_!" he yelled back, sweat trickling down his temple. "And it _will_! We're just-"

"Waiting for the results?" the little flower asked softly, finishing his sentence. His eyes widened, and Sans gave an affirming grunt. "And how long do you think that's gonna take, Sans? You keep killing these humans, but you don't really know what's happening to them after you bring them to Alphys, do you? What was that you said about her earlier- you called her unreliable. Why's that? She's taking _awfully_ long in reporting back to you, isn't she? And last time I checked, Asgore wasn't exactly the patient type. _You're scared_."

" _ENOUGH_!"

In a burst of vermillion, Flowey was yanked from the ground once more, rendered a squirming, floating mess as an array of bones circled around him and danced in stiff movements. His lip quivered, but he bit down on it to keep silent. He wouldn't indulge Sans by cowing away, not _now_ \- he'd been so _close_. He was going to say it even if it _killed_ him. Flowey spoke rapidly even as he ascended, the red magic surrounding him turning the cave walls bloody.

"And _that's_ why you're attacking me right now- because you don't want to hear the _truth_! Because you're _scared_! That's why you were fine with Frisk killing you earlier- _it was an easy out_!" he yelled, never tearing his gaze from Sans' dripping face. "That's why you wanted to kill Papyrus too- just in case, right? Who would notice if you switched a human body for a monster one? If it worked in the end, it would be a win-win anyway! But you were afraid it wouldn't work! You _hesitated_!"

A spiraling bone slammed into Flowey's head and he grunted feebly, trying to blink the stars from his eyes, his world momentarily flickering.

"I-I wouldn't do that again, if I were you," he slurred, causing Sans to let out a bark of shaky laughter.

"Or _what_? You'll lecture me to death? Real scary."

"Not as scary as a failed experiment."

Sans paused, the bones in the air coming to a slow standstill. The tips of his fingers quivered, and he squinted. "...What?"

His voice seemed to crack a bit at the implications of Flowey's statement, and the surface of the gooey pool below rippled sluggishly with the tension in the air. Flowey blinked slowly and stared fixedly at him, his gaze hard at first. Then it turned into one of pity. _Understanding_.

"It didn't work, Sans," he whispered into the deafening silence. "Why else do you think Alphys doesn't want to report back to anyone...?"

"Th-that's a lie," Sans sputtered, shaking his head rapidly. "You're lying!"

"Why would I lie to you?" Flowey pleaded desperately. "After trying to help them this whole time, do you really think I would just go missing and abandon my friends like that? I snuck into Alphys' lab, you _idiot_! _I SAW EVERYTHING!_ "

His cries echoed off the walls painfully, making the water below slosh. The red magic subsided, and Flowey fell to the ground with a relieved but pained whimper, thrusting his face into the mud purposefully to hide his tears as he shuddered. Sans stared, his form going limp. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"It was terrible.. they were _gone_. Every last one of them- not even able to _talk_ properly, and their eyes, just _dead_.." he lamented. "It's like the amalgamates all over again. She _failed_ , Sans. It's all over. Asgore's plans fell through...You can escape him and become allies with Pap and Frisk, and.. _You don't have to be scared anymore_."

Sans gawked at him, slowly shaking his head as beads of moisture rolled down his face. His jaw clicked as it opened, but no words came out. There it was. The words he'd tried to keep from the air had been spoken, and they'd _crushed_ him with their shaming weight. The truth he'd been shying away from was now right in front of him. The lights in his eyes faded until his sockets were pitch black.

It had all caught up to him.

Flowey's choked whimpers and sniffles were the only thing that permeated the air, and even after he'd finished crying, too weary to spill further tears, Sans still couldn't find words. Instead, he fell onto his knees, hunching over, his fingers digging into the mud ruefully. His world had just been taken out from underneath him, his vision was blurring, his magical core was pounding hard against his sternum so hard it hurt.

 _Everything hurt._

"I-... _No_ ," he squeaked. "No, you can't.. I can't go back, I.. Everything that's happened, I can't just..What've I _done_? What've I done, I can't just..I've come this far, we..I can still.."

Flowey sat up slowly and stared, bleary eyed and exhausted. He gave a shuddering sigh and slouched, leaning towards him gently. Despite Sans' tyranny and mistaken ways.. he couldn't just leave him. That wasn't what he'd come here for.

"...It's time to give up, Sans."

* * *

 _So basically sans was realizing really quick that HE was the one going soft. Tried going to Asgore to toughen himself up, and Asgore made him kill some humans as a sort of hazing. But it turned out it was the plan all along, and he had to send them to Alphys, who was injecting determination into dead bodies to reanimate them and 're-program' them to fight FOR the monsters. A building of an army of some sorts. Sans called Alphys unreliable because she was avoiding communications with him, and taking forever to report to Asgore, who was getting impatient. And surprise.._

 _Sorry if it's not as quality, and it's very dialogue heavy.. it was a hard chapter to write._


	7. Split

"Toriel, you _really_ don't want to do this," Papyrus whispered, his frame rigid and motionless as he stared into furious yellow eyes. The goat monster's lip curled, and she leaned in slowly, clutching Frisk to her chest with her free hand. "Think _carefully_ , think about my offer-"

" _You're_ the one that refused to think about offers, dear Papyrus," Toriel cooed, her voice dripping with false levity as her grip on his neck tightened. "If anything.. you've only yourself to blame."

Before he could even think about a response, his skull _rammed_ against the stone wall with a sickening crack, and his vision warped. Maniacal laughter filled his cranium, and his jaw opened, but no words came out. His limbs went slack. He was a puppet, and Toriel was cutting the strings.

Toriel's triumphant screeching intertwined with Frisk's wailing to make an unholy, keening symphony of _horror_. It was the soundtrack to the end of his world as pieces of his head fell to the floor like shards of an abandoned vase. Again and again, he tried to lift his head, only to have it be smashed back down. The pain was something unlike anything he'd ever felt before- it screamed through his bones and infected his very core, paralyzing him.

It was an eternity before he realized the screams were getting faint, and Toriel's rapidly retreating footsteps were echoing throughout the tunnels of the ruins. He'd lost. The feeling started to sink into his chest very slowly as he stared at the ceiling, at the spaces between the stalactites. Even from this distance, he could've sworn he heard her _laughing_.

Papyrus was surprisingly alright with that. He would have laughed at himself too. Laughed at all the failure, the misconceptions, the irony. For starters..

Dying wasn't as painful as he thought it would be, in the end.

Oh, _sure_ , the beginning of Death was a rather agonizing experience, what with his skull literally cracking into pieces after being slammed into the wall, but as seconds turned to minutes, Papyrus realized that death was much like lying awake in bed and waiting for sleep to come.

If he had eyelids, they'd feel heavy. Instead, the edges of his eye sockets stung ever so slightly, his magical core flickering much like a candle flame in a harsh wind. It was an odd sensation, one that made his rib cage feel increasingly numb. It was a feeling he was quietly grateful for. His bones stopped aching, filled with a frigid tingling sensation, and after a few more feeble flickers, even his skull stopped hurting.

Now, after who knew how much time had passed, he just felt very tired. Getting flashbacks and reliving every moment was such a lie- he could barely form comprehensible thoughts. His cranium was full of clouds, and dense fog that was slowly creeping up on his vision. This was it.

Suddenly, his body began to feel weightless. It felt as if he was floating, and for a few seconds, he was baffled.

So the legend of good souls floating to the heavens was true after all? If anything, he thought-...

 _"...-rus! Papyrus! Can you hear me?"_

That voice.. it was so _familiar_.

Too bad he couldn't stay awake long enough.

* * *

"Don't _touch_ me," Sans snapped, swatting at the tendril Flowey offered for comfort. He sniffed and wiped at his face with his sleeve gruffly. After a few minutes of a _disgusting_ emotional display, he was now sitting cross legged with his face in his hands, staring angrily at the mud before him.

. _..Now what_?

"Even if I _do_ give up," he croaked, shoulders hunching. "Asgore can't wait forever. He'll kill Alphys. He'll kill me, he'll kill _everyone_ -"

"He _won't_ ," Flowey interrupted him, slowly shaking his head. "Asgore is many things, but he's not a fool when it comes to getting what he wants. Killing you and everyone else in a fit of rage would actually harm his cause instead of helping it. If... if you go back, you can buy yourself some time."

Sans looked up at the flower inquisitively, tilting his skull with a scoff.

"Go back _where_? What the hell are you talking about?" he pressured, standing and brushing himself off as best he could. Flowey gave a tight sigh, but chose to be patient with him. His head was still throbbing after that bone attack, after all.

"Go back to Papyrus and Frisk," he explained quietly. "And.. well, _tell_ them. Negotiate, say you're on their side, and try to recruit more monsters. You have a fair amount on your side, I'm sure they'd listen to you."

The short skeleton snorted and waved a hand at him, shaking his head. Recruit? Admit defeat to something he'd been fighting for so long? Flowey was one thing, but _Papyrus_.. _Frisk_..

"Do you have a better plan?" Flowey asked, his lips turning down into a delicate but persistent frown. Sans paused. ..He didn't. It was his best bet, right? He'd already fallen from grace, what was the point of fearing going any lower?

"Right," he mumbled, turning and glaring at the cave entrance. He felt a soft tap on his shoe and jumped, looking down at an expectant face. ".. _What_?"

"Pick me up, please," Flowey murmured, stretching and leaning towards him. "Tunneling through stone and metal is exhausting, you know."

Sans didn't appreciate being told what to do in the slightest. But he wasn't left with much of a choice. A part of him that he kept hidden admitted that Flowey's presence brought relief. He'd much rather face Papyrus and Frisk with him by his hide than _alone_.

Not as begrudgingly as he would have liked, he stooped and picked up the sentient plant, plopping him onto his shoulder and shaking his hands free of mud. The feeling of having something crawling on his back momentarily as Flowey tried to grip on and adjust was actually... Not as foreign as he would have thought.

After walking out of the cave, he paused, tapping his fingers against his thigh bone.

"...We're taking a short cut," he announced gruffly, snapping his fingers so that a pocket opened in the folds of time and space. He grunted in discomfort as Flowey's roots tightened around him, but the flower said nothing, so he proceeded to walk through.

Taking short cuts was like walking down a very small, dark hallway. The disorientation lasted a few second before he felt snow crunching underneath his shoes once more, and blinked at the new surroundings. ...And then he cringed.

"They're _gone_ ," he said quietly, looking about. All that was left were pieces of bone, and footprints. It seemed like a scene from another time. Flowey huffed a bit.

"Of course they are- they wouldn't stay here. It's too cold, and home is too obvious of a place to go, so-... Sans?"

The skeleton had trailed off, staring at the trail of footprints with a stunned expression. Flowey followed his gaze and then he, too, realized what it meant.

"... _Oh_ ," he squeaked, hunkering closer to Sans' collar, eyes widening. "I... _Would_ they?"

"They would," Sans spat, breaking into a run, sweat already beading his brow. "Of all the stupid decisions.."

"Maybe they just wanted to take shelter? Maybe they didn't meet her, maybe she's gone, or something!" Flowey argued desperately, trying to convince himsef more than anyone.

Going to Toriel, no matter how desperate, was a stupid thing to do. She proposed ridiculous bargains and kept none of her promises. She was impulsive, greedy... Why would Papyrus and Frisk thing going to her was a good idea again? He bounced on Sans' shoulder, stem aching at the swerves he took, straining to grip onto him properly and silently hoping he wouldn't fall off.

"Doubt that," his newly acquired companion snarled at him. Flowey kept silent as Sans raced onwards, grimacing and leaning away from his now very sweaty skull as they neared the door to the ruins. Despite being used to the cold, he shivered when Sans' hand made contact with it, as if he could sense the bad vibrations scuttling through from the other side. A loud creak made him flinch.

Surprisingly enough, Sans was able to push it open. That wasn't a good sign.

His brother's body lying motionless on the ground wasn't a good sign either.

"Papyrus!"

Sans' yell rang through the tunnels as he rushed forward, stumbling to his knees beside the fallen skeleton and carefully lifting him up by the shoulders.

" _Papyrus_! Can you hear me?" he asked desperately, peering into empty sockets. No response was given. Sans gave a shudder at the feeling of cold bones against his own. It was eerie. Something he didn't think capable of unnerving him, and _yet_..

"He can't hear me," Sans growled, putting Papyrus back down with a surprising amount of gentleness. The whole world was tilting and sliding out from underneath him again, but in a different way- it was inexplicable. His chest felt hollow.

...It _was_ , but in a different way. Emotionally hollow. Papyrus was _dead_. He'd just been screaming at him about an hour ago, and now here he was, surrounded by shards of his own skull. Funny how things worked that way. With him out of the way, and Frisk gone missing... What did it even mean?

The new plan had fallen through. Now he was lost all over again, and-

"Sans.. Don't cry, he's not dead."

With a jolt, the smaller skeleton looked up from his sibling's vacant face and cleared his nonexistent throat.

" _What_? I'm not _crying_ ," he scoffed, thrusting his face into Flowey's angrily. "And what do you mean 'he's not dead'?"

"He hasn't turned to dust," Flowey pointed out, blinking and ignoring his previous comment. "So he still has a chance.. The problem is- you can either take him back yourself, or go on and find Toriel and Frisk."

Sans stared, recoiling a bit as he wiped at his brow.

"How do you know Toriel has Frisk?"

Flowey's face fell and he blinked slowly, sending Sans into silence. _Duh_. Anyway.. The skeleton huffed at him and turned away a bit. This choice was harder than he thought. If he took Papyrus somewhere safe, it would take precious time. Healing him would also require a lot of effort.

...He _could_ just get up and track Toriel's trail, and leave Papyrus here. If he didn't die now, he would die later, right? So what was the point? And there was no guarantee he would trust him after what had happened earlier.

For some reason, that thought made the hollow feeling in his chest expand, and he felt his fingers curl into his palms. As if reading his thoughts, Flowey spoke quietly.

"...Are you going to go ahead?"

Sans flinched at the words, jaw clenching.

"...No," he said finally, standing and prying Flowey off his shoulder, placing him on the stone floor. " _You_ are."

The flower gaped at him as he picked up the skull shards and hefted up his sibling silently, gaze grim.

" _What_? But.. you can't just _leave_ me here," he protested, starting to shiver. "I-"

" _Look_ ," Sans bit, looming above him. "There's not much time. So we'll split up. I'll take care of Papyrus, and you go find Frisk. When Papyrus is awake, I'll go to Alphys and Mettaton and see what's happening over there. More will get done in a shorter amount of time."

"What if Toriel finds me?" Flowey squeaked desperately as Sans began to make his way out the door. The skeleton gave a scoff and turned to him, scarlet throbbing at his eye socket.

"...If anything, you're right about _one_ thing. I do have a lot of knowledge and power," he elaborated, a hint of pride sneaking into his voice as he tilted his head. "And I know for a fact that you're only defenseless because you choose to be. If Toriel finds you, she'll defeat you _only if you let her_."

The door slam that came after that was one of the loudest things Flowey had ever heard. He shook, looking at the ground, vision tainted with shame.

* * *

Well, maybe he lied a little bit. Why waste time waiting for Papyrus to heal when he could just go straight to Alphys? She could help, and if she _chose_ not to, well...

He'd figure out how to burn that bridge if he came to it.

Sans paused for a few seconds outside of the shortcut he'd created and looked down at the motionless pile of bones in his arms, feeling his eye sockets sting again.

"This is all your fault," he grumbled, despising the way his voice cracked. "I hate you."


	8. Ally

Sans glowered at the pulsing, glowing purple barrier before him, and clenched his jaw as a drop of sweat trickled down his vertebrae. Of _course_ he wouldn't have been able to teleport straight into Alphys' laboratory. That would have been too simple. Of _course_ she would protect herself with cursed walls and spells. Of _course_. But perhaps...

 _Maybe_...

Experimentally, the shorter skeleton reached out a hand, and bone made contact with glimmering violet. Almost instantaneously, he let out a shriek as agony seized his very core, making it flicker dangerously. His fingers went from ivory to ebony, and before anything else could happen, he snatched his hand away, holding it close and panting. His knees almost buckled, and he took a few steps back to regain his composure, shock crawling down his spine in icy waves.

This magic was strong. Stronger than him. Or perhaps he'd been weakened by his previous encounters? The mere thought of such a thing happening made his shoulders hunch in a mixture of fury and shame.

There was no way he could blast through that! If that stupid weed Flowey were here, he could've burrowed underneath it, negotiated with Alphys- anything other than hopelessly standing here would have been great. He huffed and looked down at Papyrus, who was still limp in his arms.

"...I should've just left you behind," Sans snarled, looking away from his empty and inanimate eye sockets. "This is what you've always been- a hinderance. An obstacle. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have...This wouldn't have-..I.."

For some reason, Sans found himself unable to bring the words making his skull throb into open air. Unable to further express his tumult, he felt his eye flare briefly. The skeleton growled and his grip on his sibling tightened almost maliciously.

"As articulate as ever, Sans," a nearby voice purred, making the skeleton jump. He tensed and took a step back as a lithe, four armed figure approached him from his far right, walking through the barrier as if it were nonexistent.

Two amber eyes stared him down,

" _Mettaton_ ," he hissed, scarlet flaring in his eye socket. Mettaton gave him a smirk in response and cocked his hip, spreading his four arms.

"The one and only, baby," the robot crooned, sauntering over with a confident air that made Sans extremely uncomfortable. No one had approached him in such a way before. Almost against his will, he took a step back from Mettaton's taller form and bared his teeth, like a frightened animal trying to ward off an intruder.

"Tell Alphys to stop being a coward and let me through," the skeleton hissed, despite the knot of uncertainty forming at the back of his skull. "Or I'll-"

"Or you'll _what_ , Sansy?" Mettaton cooed, false concern dripping from his voice like a sickening honey as he batted his lashes. "You'll take care of me, just like you took care of Frisk? Just like you took care of Papy here? By backing out at the last minute?"

The robot took utmost _glee_ in seeing the stunned discomfort in the skeleton's eyes, and almost squealed in delight as he saw anxious drops of sweat appear on his bony brow. Alphys had cameras almost everywhere- and Mettaton always had front row seats. After seeing what had occurred between him and Frisk, he reckoned Sans wasn't something to be afraid of anymore, and boy oh boy was he going to milk this opportunity to make him squirm. The robot leaned in so his nose brushed against Sans' and he smiled so wide his teeth shone in the moonlight.

"I'd think twice before calling anyone around here a coward, baby bones," he whispered. "Especially if I were holding the body of my dead sibling in my arms."

With an outraged cry, Sans let one of his arms rear back and slammed his fist into Mettaton's face as hard as he could, flames erupting around his feet as eye lit up.

"He's _alive_ , you idiot!" he roared. "And if you don't make your detrimental peanut of a creator come out, or at least remove this accursed thing, someone is going to die, do you understand me? I- "

The skeleton cut off as a canon was thrust into his face, humming faintly with energy, his rage and growing red aura instantly diminishing out of pure shock. Mettaton's eyes glowed, and he gave a small giggle.

" _Sans_ , did you know that I am loaded with sensors that tell me just how much magic, how much strength, is left in a monster's core? With one scan, I could tell you if Alphys can help your sad excuse for a sibling or if your entire cowardly crusade has been for nothing," the taller figure laughed and continued. "I can tell you if you hold the flickers of life in your hands, or if you hold the very epitome of your mistakes. I can tell you if you've made the right choice, or if you've dashed your entire reign to pieces for nothing in one fell swoop. Don't you want to know that, Sans? Isn't that something, oh, I don't know.. _Important_?"

The skeleton stared back incredulously at the whirring cannon, frozen. His last encounter with Mettaton had ben rather vexing, yes, but nothing at all like this. What had changed? How did he know about what happened with Frisk? Was Papyrus really _dead_?

...Was all of this more important than the tiny sliver of pride he had left? Surely it would be a stupid question to others, but it was of utmost importance to him. First Papyrus. Then Frisk, and then Flowey- and perhaps that was necessary, but was he really going to stand here and take orders from this scrap of metal who thought he was better than him? What if Papyrus _was_ dead?

He would have done all of this for nothing. Mettaton was right. Even so..

Didn't the saying go 'Desperate times, desperate measures?' How desperate was he, really? If he helped his sibling and then reunited with Frisk and Flowey- then what would happen, assuming Alphys was still against him?

Maybe all this was for naught after all. The glorious death he'd almost tasted a few hours ago seemed more appealing now than ever, and he half wished Mettaton would shoot him to bits that very instant. He knew that wouldn't happen, though.

Like him, Mettaton was a cat that liked to play with its prey before the meal. The robot took Sans' silence for compliance, and sniggered, retracting his firearm.

"There we go. Let's start with some simple Q and A, yes? What are you doing here, besides looking pathetic?" Mettaton queried, his tone a bit more business-like. "No one is allowed past these lines, except for Asgore, but he's not due for a while. It's important that no one messes up Alphys' work."

There was a brief moment of silence, a bit of shadow covering Sans' face before he spoke. Then it clicked.

"You mean it's important that no one sees her failures, right?" Sans murmured, his teeth clenched. Mettaton squinted, leaning in.

"...What?"

"I said, you mean it's important that no one notices her failures!" the skeleton reiterated loudly, taking a step forwards. "Do you honestly believe that a creature as proud as Alphys would keep her 'wonders' a secret? Of course not, you weren't even made when it happened, were you? You were just created to keep the others at bay, to distract them with something nice and shiny so she could hide her disappointment behind their awe! I bet even Asgore's fallen for it, and maybe that's why he hasn't slaughtered you all already!"

Amber eyes narrowed against scarlet, and all four of Mettaton's arms stiffened. A slow look of confusion took up his face, and he blinked, as if just waking up.

"...I don't know what you're talking about, bone bag, but you better stop," he growled, shaking his head uncertainly. Sans smiled up at him, the act oddly serene, eerily slow.

"... _Tell_ me, Mettaton," he drawled, regaining confidence. "Have you ever actually seen Alphys at work?"

Thick silence filled the air as Mettaton looked away, crossing one set of arms and clenching the fists of his other set, tapping his foot impatiently. He was growing uncomfortable.

"Well, no. Duh. I'm in charge of watching the cameras and making reports. That's my job. I was made to be a surveillance and security bot, you idiot-"

"Wrong," Sans interrupted, his golden tooth gleaming as he grinned wider, looking like a victorious jack-o-lantern. Flowey's intel was finally starting to make more sense. "What exactly did she do with those reports, tin can? Hm?"

"Watch it," Mettaton snapped, rearing his canon once more, lip curling. "She read them extensively, for your information, and sent me out when-"

"Sent you _out_ , hm? To do what? Chase after possible snoops? I'm guessing none of them gave you any sort of lead, or proved to be any danger. Sounds like... busy work to me," Sans offered lightly, a smug look on his face. Mettaton recoiled, incredulous as his processor raced.

"Busy work is given as a diversion that makes someone feel occupied and important while they do nothing- I've been protecting Alphys and her discoveries, and defending this place! I've been keeping contact with some of the outsiders," protested Mettaton, shaking his head as if to clear the tentative confusion and unease from his thoughts. "You have no idea what you're talking about, you-"

In a flash, Sans' small hand was around Mettaton's neck, and he yanked him down so they were eye to eye, digging the tips of his bony fingers into the robot's metallic finish with a soft scraping noise.

"I might have cracked when it came to that stupid kid, and when it came to Papyrus, but you mean _nothing_ to me, you scrap heap," he spat, quivering with pent up energy as flames sparked in his eye socket. "I could crush you single handedly if I felt like it. The only reason you're alive to mock me is because despite everything, I find you useful."

The skeleton looked down at the motionless body in his arms and shifted, letting go of Mettaton and snapping his fingers, sending the robot flying into the air with a shriek. He couldn't help but let out a growl of victory. After all that had happened, it felt nice to be back where he belonged. In control. Having the upper hand.

He found it _delicious_.

"Now, I have some information. Information that your dear Alphys has been hiding from you, bolt brain," he continued. "And from the looks of it, you desperately need to know that you're being played. We all are, technically. But anyhow. You give me the ability to get through, and I'll give you freedom."

This entire time, Mettaton had been writhing like a maggot in agony, limbs flailing.

" _Freedom_?! Freedom to do what?" he screamed, glowering down at his foe.

"Freedom to choose," Sans answered lightly. "The ability to have a choice in the first place. I'll give you all of that if you'd be a gentleman and let me through. Or, I could just toss you like a dented soda can. Sure, it would be detrimental, but I have a limited amount of patience."

While Mettaton debated, tension hung in the air like electricity in a thunder storm, and when he finally chose to speak, his voice was soft and frail. Fear tinged his words. He'd lost.

"...Fine."

He fell from the sky with an unceremonious thump, sending snow flying, and stood to dust himself off.

"What's-"

"Alphys has been lying to everyone this whole time," Sans interjected, not missing a beat, not making eye contact. He stared down at Papyrus as he spoke, taking in every crack, every dented bit of bone, as if telling the story to him. "Long story short, Flowey told me. Looks like you have holes in your security system, cause somehow, he was able to burrow underneath the barrier and get through. He's seen her in action, and the truth is.. There isn't much happening."

"But Alphys is under orders from _Asgore_ ," Mettaton interjected, spreading his arms as if presenting some sort of trump card to end the discussion. "And so are you. You kill them, she brings them to life and brainwashes them into fighting for us. She makes an army, presents it to Asgore, and we win. Everyone's happy. It's simple."

"Except it's not," Sans snapped, turning to glare at him. "Hasn't anyone taught you it's rude to interrupt? _Think_ , you pathetic excuse for a life form. Why do you think it's been taking Alphys ages to send you out to Asgore with any form of results? Why do you think she's locked herself away so well, going as far as to put up this barrier and create you, in order to keep the outside world away? Why do you think she's kept you so busy with watching the cameras instead of doing something of use, like luring more bodies into the underworld to further progress? Well? She's just been using you to cover herself."

Mettaton sunk to his knees, clutching fistfulls of the ground and rapidly shaking his head as it spun. Alphys didn't need him after all? No way- none of that made sense! There was no way Alphys could fail! She was the best at what she did. That's why the king hired her- right? But... if Sans was telling the truth, then.. his previous actions made sense. No wonder Alphys panicked when she found out he'd spared a human. He hadn't seen the rest of it, but her terror had logic now. Sans' supposed betrayal wasn't the source of her fear because..

She wouldn't have been so afraid if she were telling the truth.

"I... so all of this is just a big lie?" he squeaked, looking up at the skeleton. "She's just... _stalling_?"

"Basically," Sans murmured, turning his back to him. "Once Papyrus is back on his feet, we can meet up with Frisk and Flowey, and gather more allies to help us overthrow Asgore. Because if he finds out his plans have fallen through- well."

Mettaton stood once more, and rubbed his temple, gazing at his feet the entire time. Being proven wrong was humiliating. He was sure he'd been doing the right thing, and then... This? He felt like a used rag. He felt worthless. Like excess. This was all too much to take in. He felt weak. liquid brimmed in his eyes, and with a shocked inhale, he realized he had the ability to weep. He hadn't known that.

"... I didn't think it was possible," he said breathily, almost in a daze, the violet wall reflecting in his golden eyes as he tried to dry them. "For things to change so quickly, I mean. I _honestly_ thought.."

He tilted his head to look at Sans pointedly, and the skeleton let out a protesting yell as his pride took a blow at the robot's implications.

" _Look_ , I don't have time for this! The only reason I'm doing anything is because I don't want to die just yet. When I die, it'll be magnificent- I won't leave this world pleading and powerless in my ignorance, under the thumb of some idiot tyrant," he hissed. "I'm doing this for _myself_. Now are you going to make up your mind and suck it up, or are you going to sit there like a lost puppy?"

Chest heaving, as his face burned, he waited. And waited. And waited. Mettaton didn't turn back around. Instead, his fingers curled into his palms until they became fists. The robot was speechless for a few more seconds, caught in his own whirlwind of emotion. A tear dripped off his chin and landed on the ground.

Slowly, his lips curled into a soft smile, and he squinted, lifting his chin as his eyes glowed, his renewed fervor making them shine like search lights.

"Come on, then, Sansy. We've got a _job_ to do."

* * *

 **This probably needs a lot of editing, and I apologize if it's a boring read, and redundant, and dialogue heavy. But it needed to happen. If anything, I'll re-upload it if any changes are made. As always, please leave all negative comments to yourself.**


	9. Lie

Sans grunted, sulkily walking behind Mettaton as they both made their way through the musty halls of Alphys' lair. The air was thick with traces of incense and smoke, and the smell of stale potions and burnt experiments made even Mettaton squint a bit. The floor underneath their feet was gritty, and the only sounds were the clacking of Mettaton's heels, the occasional creak of leather from Sans, and the faint squeak of his sneakers as they glided over slick spots every now and then.

"Never call me 'Sansy' ever again," the small skeleton snarled, keeping his voice low. Mettaton rolled his eyes and looked down at him briefly, giving a small scoff at the sheen of sweat on Sans' skull. Not threatening in the least- not anymore, anyway. It was almost.. Funny. The robot gave his scarlet and silver tinged lips a pout and clicked his tongue at him mockingly, shaking his head.

"Now, now, _Sansy_ \- is that any way to talk to a bot that just did you a favor?" he cooed, expression twisting into a sickening smugness. "I can always just leave you here to get lost, you know, bone bag-"

Mettaton cut off with a snicker as Sans' eye socket throbbed red, and he waved two of his arms dismissively. His mood had been significantly lifted in the past five minutes. He had the upper hand on Sans, Alphys was going to pay for making him look like an unintelligent scrap heap, and there was a slim chance they could all overthrow Asgore. Much win.

Things were good.

 _For now_.

"Relax, will you?" he chided, rounding a corner. "We'll find Alphys eventually, and everything-"

For some reason, his wording made Sans pause, his grip on Papyrus tightening ever so slightly as his shoulders raised with suspicion. He tilted his skull and Mettaton's steps slowed, the pointed heels to his metallic boots ceasing in their clatter.

" _Eventually_?" Sans echoed slowly, taking a step back. "So you don't even know where she is right now?"

Mettaton hummed and suddenly turned into a scolded child, staring down at his toes and swaying a bit. His voice was hardly audible when he spoke next, and it made Sans' metaphorical stomach twist dangerously.

"N-not exactly, no," he mumbled. "She's.. around, somewhere, I'm sure. It's just that, since she's always busy-"

"Can't you use your sensor to locate her?" Sans barked urgently, interrupting the beginning to his pitiful excuse. "Turn the damn thing on! What are you waiting for?"

Amber eyes flashed with shame and tints of fear, and Mettaton took a few steps back from the furiously sweating skeleton before him. Thick silence hung in the air like mildew before his lips parted.

"A-about that, Sansy, uh.." he stammered, fiddling with all twenty of his fingers. "I might have lied. Just a tiny bit. I.. I actually don't know if Papyrus is alive or not- I mean, he doesn't look totally dead, just.. Just a little.. in pieces."

He shut his mouth when a soft thunk sounded, and looked up to see Sans placing Papyrus on the floor a few feet away. The small skeleton made the greasy walls shine with crimson as he cracked his knuckles deliberately, menacingly. Mettaton's good mood permanently flew out the window.

"Take a good long look at him," Sans growled, the floor beneath his sneakers heating up and glowing. Fury bubbled within him like poison, and when he looked up, flames licked at his eye sockets. "Because when I'm done with you, _you'll look a thousand times worse_!"

A fire ball appeared in his palm, and he reared his arm back threateningly, making Mettaton flinch in spite of himself. He cowered and covered his face with four hands.

"Sans, wait! You really don't want to do this-" he cried, cutting himself off with a frightened hiccup, amber eyes wide.

"And why the HELL _not_?!"

"Because _I'm_ standing right here."

The skeleton turned at the sudden voice, dropping his fireball so a ring of flame appeared at his feet, startled. Alphys stood a few yards away, in all her magical glory.

Her hands were stained with ash, and her glasses were fogged with vapor residue, but that didn't stop her eyes from glinting menacingly behind the lenses as her lips curled upwards mischievously. A slow laugh left her, and she shook her head almost lazily, yellow sparks beginning to shine at her fingertips.

"Hello, Sans. Long time no see."


	10. United

"Sans," Alphys said slowly, wiggling her fingers as they glowed with yellow magic. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"I do," Sans barked in response. "Though I wouldn't put it so _nicely_. Give it up, Alphys. I know you've failed. So does Flowey, so does Mettaton. You've got no one on your side. It would be in your best interest to listen to me."

Silence stretched on for what felt like centuries, and all Sans could see was the glint of the reptile's glasses in the dark. He couldn't read her expression. For some reason, she didn't cower, didn't flinch when his words hit her- and why? She'd been caught.

...Right?

"I think the only fool here is you, my dear skeleton," the witch hissed, taking a step closer, her sharp teeth peeking out at him past her scaly lips. "Do you honestly think me so incompetent? Sure, I admit the humans were utter failures. Their corpses were too weak and withered to withstand the level of determination I'd injected into them- but that only lead me to discover something else. Something better. Something stronger. Take a look at Mettaton here. Just how do you think I was able to bring him to life? Hm?"

The robot in question put a hand to his chest and blinked in surprise, his shoulders hunching once he realized her words.

"Y-You mean.. I'm-"

"Get to the point, you stinking reptile!" Sans yelled, clenching his hands into fists. "I don't have time for games- I could turn you to dust right now if I felt like it!"

"And if you did, who would bring your poor, sweet Pappy back?" Alphys crooned, making the floor at her feet glow a menacing yellow to counter Sans' threatening scarlet. "Oh, yes. I overheard that conversation, Sans. I overheard all of it. You need me more than you'd like to admit. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that right now- I'm your only hope. But go ahead, kill me. If that's what you really want."

Alphys' yellow magic receded, and she spread her arms, her cloak billowing out behind her as she gave herself up. Sans' magical aura grew for a few seconds, before he hesitated, and took a step back, shaking his head in bitter defeat. There would be too many questions left unanswered, too many resources wasted if he took a chance and ended Alphys now. As much as he hated to admit it... she was right. Without her, Papyrus would be unable to fight. They'd be powerless against Toriel if Flowey failed- and heaven forbid them go up against Asgore as weak as they were right now. They _needed_ her.

"Explain," he demanded, stomping his foot. "No questions, no riddles. Just answers."

With a snort, Alphys smirked and pointed a finger at Papyrus' limp body, causing it to levitate. Sans growled indignantly and watched his sibling carefully as he floated behind the witchy reptile, who only gave an innocent shrug.

"What?" she asked, batting her eyes at him. "It's not fair if he doesn't get to hear too. Follow me."

She started walking quickly, leading them down various musty hallways and long, dark corridors. Not even Mettaton knew where they were going, giving Sans a confused shrug when the skeleton shot him a baffled look. Soon, they reached a dead end- or so they thought. Alphys pressed her hand onto the mossy bricks and muttered an incantation under her breath, making the entire wall shimmer with amber light before it vanished and gave way to a massive room full of candles, old books, and many scattered pieces of paper with messy writing on them.

"Most of the hallways and corridors are for show," she elaborated, setting Papyrus in the middle of the floor. "So intruders get lost. Stand back, by the way, this is going to get a bit messy."

Mettaton instantly obeyed and shuffled over to where the doorway had previously been, but Sans stood his ground and suspiciously crossed his arms. He still wasn't fond of being told what to do, and furthermore...

"What're you going to do to him?" he asked gruffly, shifting his weight from one leg bone to the other. Alphys' tail lashed, and she lowered her glasses to squint at him from under the wide brim of her hat. A smile twitched at her lips.

"I'm going to heal him. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently. "Face it, Sans. You're in my territory now, and it's best for you if you do as I say. Now, don't make me have to say it again. _Stand back._ "

Huffing, Sans joined Mettaton, grumbling insults under his breath. His spine shook with mixed feelings. On one hand, he was secretly relieved that Alphys was going to bring Papyrus back. On the other hand- it would mean he owed her. It would mean he'd been _weak_ , that he'd needed someone, that he hadn't been able to do something on his own. When Papyrus awakened, he'd have to confront his errors, he'd have to apologize... It was disgusting, overwhelming, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to go through with it all of a sudden- but if he had anything to say about it, it was too late.

Alphys drew a symbol around Papyrus' body with chalk, and lit various candles, each giving forth an amber flame. She proceeded to stand in front of him, and spread her arms, yellow magic pulsing at her finger tips and causing Papyrus to levitate once more. The flames began to flicker as her lips parted and she began to chant. It cast eerie shadows on the walls. Sans didn't know what she was saying, but something about the ancient tongue made more shivers go down his spine. It made him feel small. Sweat started to bead his skull, and he shifted nervously as the chanting got louder.

With every incantation, the candles' flames flickered, and grew brighter until they were practically blinding. A sickening crunch was heard as several vertebrae pieced themselves back together, and the fragmented bits of Papyrus' skull fused. His shattered arm straightened, and the pieces snapped back into place with sharp cracks that made Mettaton wince and look away. Alphys was practically screaming at this point, her voice grating on their ears, her teeth bared as Papyrus began to shake, his bones rattling loudly as his body descended. When he touched the ground, it vibrated until dust started falling from the rafters, and Sans thought his own skull would shatter and fall off.

Finally, the candles went out, and there was silence, save for Alphys panting in the dark. Sweat beaded her brow, and she trembled lightly as she pushed her glasses up, turning to the two stunned spectators behind her.

"It's done," she wheezed, waving a clammy hand. "Give him time."

The shorter skeleton stared fixedly at his sibling, and after a few seconds of thick silence, his shoulders drooped. This... wasn't what he was expecting. He was both relieved and disappointed.

"How much time are we talking?" Sans pressed, crossing his arms. Alphys stared at him fixedly, and shook her head.

"You're terrible at hiding your feelings, you know," she chided, fixing her hat nonchalantly as Sans fumed in response.

"We don't have all day!" he cried, gesturing. "And you've yet to explain anything! How am I supposed to trust you when-"

"I healed your brother, didn't I?" Alphys yelled, rounding on him angrily. "Isn't that enough? If I wanted you dead, you would have been dust in the snow fifteen minutes ago, skeleton. Now do you want answers or not?"

"I'd.. like some answers."

The three turned to see Papyrus sitting up sluggishly, a baffled expression on his face as he stared at his previously broken arm and then looked up at them. The taller skeleton locked gazes with Sans for a few painful seconds, and Sans couldn't help but look away, practically flinching at the nagging emotions bubbling up inside him. Gross.

"Ah, Papyrus," Alphys cooed, clasping her hands together. "You're right on time. The show's just getting started-"

Papyrus slowly shook his head and stood, wobbling in place for a few seconds before pointing at Alphys angrily.

"You! You-"

"Papyrus, it's," Sans said haltingly, voice catching when the younger skeleton turned to look at him. "It's fine. She's uh.. She's with us. I think."

"Who's 'us'?" Papyrus asked testily, crossing his arms. The smaller skeleton began to sweat profusely, shifting his weight from leg bone to leg bone almost anxiously. He'd come to terms with the fact that he wasn't as ruthless as he'd previously thought, that he was no longer working for Asgore, that he'd been wrong- but admitting it out loud? No. Not yet.

"Look," he snapped. "Things- things are different. 'Us' is Flowey, Mettaton, Alphys, Frisk and..me and you."

"Why should I trust you after what you _did_?" Papyrus asked, raising his voice as his emotions got the better of him. He stalked over, and loomed above Sans threateningly, his eye socket throbbing with barely contained magic. Sans growled, and took half a step back, his shoulders hunching defensively, jaw bone clicking open to speak when-

"He brought you here!" Mettaton cried, gesturing with two of his four arms desperately, his amber eyes wide. Papyrus suddenly recoiled as if he'd been hit, gazing at the robot in shock. Mettaton huffed and gave a nod and a shrug. "He brought you here, Papyrus. So that Alphys could heal you. Which, she did. Congrats."

Papyrus gave Sans one final look before stepping away to stare at Alphys harshly, his hands curling into fists.

"Explain," he demanded, practically quivering with anger. Alphys rolled her eyes and slowly pushed up her glasses, waving him off as if he were nothing more than an annoying insect.

"What do you think I've been trying to do this whole time? Are you _done_?" she mocked, lip curling in a bit of a sneer before she started pacing, her padding steps echoing in the small space. "You were under the impression that I was helping Asgore by injecting determination into human corpses for his supposed army, correct? You'd received information from Flowey, who told you that I'd failed and I was stalling, correct? Well, you were wrong. It's true that the determination experiments failed- but I wasn't stalling. In fact, I was being very, very productive."

Alphys snapped her fingers and in the middle of the room, a hulking shape appeared, concealed by a single sheet. The reptile smirked and continued to pace in front of it, ignoring Sans' impatient snarl.

"I had all this determination, harvested from humans, but what to do with it? Then I was struck with inspiration. If the bodies couldn't handle the injections of determination, then what did I need? New bodies. Stronger bodies. Metal bodies- and that's when I made Mettaton. He's not just a menial security guard, you know. He's a weapon. His canon is infused with lethal amounts of magic and determination," she elaborated, waving her hand once more. "He's entirely made out of metal, but he's sentient, capable of understanding and following commands. However.. He was just a prototype."

The witch chuckled and lifted up a corner of the sheet, pausing for a few seconds before pulling it back with a proud flourish. Beneath was an enormous robot with a coat of shining blue paint and sharp shoulders. Four long metal arms hung at its sides, and four vacant eyes stared straight ahead.

"Gentlemen," she said, pointing. "Meet Napstaton. They're the key to winning the revolt against Asgore and his idiotic plans."

As she stared expectantly, Sans stepped forward, seething. His eye lit up with scarlet, and he curled his hands into fists, shivering with fury. All this riddling and showmanship- and for what? A single robot. If it was anything like the lying, stupid, cowardly scrapheap that Mettaton was, they were all doomed. He'd sacrificed his pride, his status, his very life- all for this? All for a robot? He wanted to strangle Alphys at that very moment, and wipe the proud grin off her face.

"One robot," he choked, scarlet beginning to thrum at his fingertips. "All of this.. this ridiculousness over _one robot?!"_

His yell echoed menacingly in the small room, and Papyrus couldn't help but flinch. He, too, was a bit disappointed. He'd been expecting something more... helpful. Yes, Alphys was a genius when it came to magic and it's use, but what did this possibly do for them? They were right back at square one, with no defenses. Beside him, Mettaton shifted uneasily and crossed one pair of arms.

"Alphys," he began. "I'm, like.. flattered and all, but how is this going to help us?"

He stared in confusion, amber eyes narrowing as Alphys' grin only widened, a crazed gleam coming to her eye.

"Because this," she chuckled. "Is _one of_ _many_."

* * *

 ** _Hi, gang. Unfortunately, I've lost the muse for this story. I hope you guys like this last chapter, and as always- thank you for your support!_**


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